


Testing Fate

by SparklesTheMetalDragon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom/sub, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Language, Fluff, Light BDSM, Minor Violence, Multi, Polyamory, Sexual Content, Sibling Incest, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 17:25:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12988851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparklesTheMetalDragon/pseuds/SparklesTheMetalDragon
Summary: The Winchesters live a lonely life on the road. It's no surprise that they find solace, literally, in one another. They hunt and live exactly like they did when John was around, except now they rely on each other for a lot more than just sibling support.(THERE ARE ADULT THEMES IN THIS STORY. THERE IS INCEST. THERE ARE BDSM/SUB-DOM/DDLG THEMES. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, DON'T READ IT)





	1. Afraid of the Inevitable

I’m not sure if it’s the ticking of the clock on the wall of the motel or Dean’s snoring that’s keeping me up, but I’m sure that I can’t sleep. I feel trapped, suffocated even, in the usually welcoming embrace of sleep. In this moment, I don’t want to be asleep; I want to be free. I pull back the dingy motel comforter and quietly place my feet on the mysteriously stained carpet floor. Dean’s snoring hasn’t paused telling me he was still lost in the realm of the unconscious. Sam, rolls over in his sleep, making me jump. My body is tense, everything is frozen as I wait for the sign that Sam is asleep. A small snore erupts from his lips and my entire body relaxes. Carefully and slowly I make my way across the carpet, grateful that the disgusting carpet muffles my steps. I make it to the door successfully, Dean’s snoring never once faltering and Sam’s movement still as well. Opening the door quietly was the challenge, seeing as the motel staff hasn’t oiled a single door hinge since 1989 when this place was built. Somehow, by the grace of God (who I still haven’t met), I manage to open the door quietly and slip onto the pavement outside without disturbing the boys.

The door closes behind me quietly and I can finally release a breath that I didn’t know I was holding. The moon is full and bright. My eyes catch on stars and the barely-visible pine needles on the trees in front of me. I’m at peace when I’m by myself. I don’t get that a lot, what with having two brothers that are the definition of overprotective. I stand still, as still as the sleeping wildlife and the silent cars below the railing of our motel room walkway. I’m tired, but I can’t sleep. The moon is too bright for me to not stand outside and enjoy its company. I’m outside for a while. I only realize the error of my ways when the moon starts to disappear, and the sun peeks its shiny face out of the horizon. I’m confused. The particles of sleep have grown since I walked outside and my body aches for sleep. I hear the boys moving inside. Moments later panic sets in at the notice of my absence. My phone rings from the inside, there’s cussing and then the motel door is thrown open.

“Rachel...” I tense. Dean sounds terrified.

“I just stepped out for some fresh air De, I’m okay.” My knuckles are white from gripping the splintering-wood railing.

“It’s chilly out here, come inside.” His hand brushes my waist and the temperature becomes evident to me.

I wasn’t aware of how cold it was.

I follow Dean inside and Sam meets my eyes with surprise and confusion.

“I just needed some fresh air,” I tell Sam. My voice sounds broken and unused to my own ears.

Dean touches my arm. It’s ice cold.

“How long were you out there, getting fresh air?” De questions.

“Not long enough,” I pause, staring at the boys, tears welling in my eyes.

Deans hands tighten around my waist and I’m wrapped in his comforting embrace. Sam comes up behind me, encompassing Dean and me. I let them hug me, I enjoy it, but all too soon it ends.

“You don’t have to talk about it until you’re ready” Sam kisses me softly.

Living on the road almost 24/7 has taken away any sense of control or normalcy in our lives. Our profession doesn’t do anything to ease that twinge of weird either. We’ve grown up together, we’ve only ever consistently had one another so it’s no surprise, to us anyway, that this is how we ended up. The three Winchesters left on earth are deeply, madly in love with one another and there’s not a soul who doesn’t know it. Thankfully it’s not the weirdest thing hunters have experienced so it generally goes unjudged in the hunting world. The real world doesn’t need to know our dirty little secret, especially because every normal person we meet assumes I’m either Sam or Dean’s girlfriend or wife. I never questioned the connection because it had always been there, but I struggle with embracing it. The irony behind my struggle is that I don’t want to fall in love with my brother’s for completely normal reasons. I’m not afraid of our love being taboo, I’m simply afraid of losing my brothers. I’m afraid that our usually cruel hand, dealt by fate, will rip us apart from one another. I don’t know a lot about learning to love someone because I’ve always loved my brothers, but I know a lot about loss, and I can’t know what it’s like to lose my brothers.

“Sleep peanut, we’re gonna be researching all day anyway.” Dean’s words break me out of my depressing internal narration.

I so badly want to turn to Dean and Sam and confess my internal struggles that have been captivating my energy and mind for the past two months, but something in my body, whether it be fear or exhaustion, prevents words from forming. Instead I trudge to Dean’s bed, or at least the bed that smells strongly of him, and fall on it, letting sleep quickly consume me.

**Dean**

She’s beautiful. One of her tan legs is draped over one of the covers, her shorts just long enough to protect her innocence, but short enough to give the hint of deviance. I’m getting hard just looking at her. Sam notices and smirks. Her body shifts and she’s on her stomach, ass fully out from under the covers. We both groan. She moans slightly in her sleep and we fall silent, knowing that it’s better to let her sleep then make noises at her sleeping, attractive body. Sam and I turn back to our research on the latest case and listen to her snores and moans in the background.

**Rachel**

_I wake up to the feeling of warm hands on my back and equally warm hands on my stomach. Lips on my throat and on the back of my neck. Warm hairy legs tangled in mine. I’m in heaven. I open my eyes and meet beautiful green ones._

_“Dean” I smile._

_I turn._

_“Sam” I smile._

_Dean’s fingertips skid along my waistline. My breath catches. I love it when he touches me like that._

_“Dean…” I moan softly._

_Suddenly a knife is being shoved into my stomach and there’s fire running through my body._

I wake up screaming.

“DEAN! NO!” I sob.

My body aches. My lungs are on fire. Dean is by my side and I scream, punching him in panic. Sam is behind me, holding me close and whispering sweet promises in my ear. Dean is farther away from the bed now, holding his cheek. It takes me a minute to calm down. A minute for my heart rate to be lowered. A minute for me to register that my eldest brother wasn’t going to stab me in the stomach during his attempts to pleasure me. Sam’s hands massage the knots in my shoulders as Dean takes a step towards my extended hand. I know it’s been months since I’ve slept with my brothers, both physically or just by their side. I know it’s taking a toll on our relationship and their emotional ties with me. Their insecurities heighten, and they feel as though they’ve driven a wedge between us. I just wish I had the guts to tell them that it’s all my fault. They miss me, I know, but something is wrong with me. I don’t…I’m afraid that if I let them fall in love with me that I’ll be ripped from their lives by some cruel force of fate. I don’t want to break their hearts. Although judging by Dean’s expression, I think I already have.

“De…” I whimper and pull him close to me.

He obliges and pulls me into him so he’s holding me in his lap while Sam massages my lower back.

“Rachel…it’s been months. Please, tell us what’s going on.” Sam croaks, his voice wracked with worry.

I know I need to tell them. If I don’t I could ruin everything we’ve been building together for years.

“I’m afraid…that I’m in love with you. I’m afraid that because I’m in love with you, fate will rip us apart.” I speak, my voice equally wrecked.

“I’m afraid of being happy. I’m afraid of what fate would do to Dean and you. I’m afraid that what we’re doing…our relationship… that it’s just fodder for fate to fuck up.” I continue, my body shaking with fear of the unknown.

Dean holds me tighter, his arms holding me close to him while his fingers rub soothing circles on my arms. Sam presses a kiss on my shoulder blade and peppers them across to my other shoulder blade, causing me to shiver.

“You are safe with us. You’re not going anywhere. We won’t leave your side. I promise you peanut” Dean murmurs in my ear, slowly soothing away my anxiety and fear.

Sam continues pressing kisses on my shoulder blades, all the way up the back of my neck and to the right side. I whimper softly as Sam gets to the left side of my neck and starts to suck gently. Dean continues to rub circles on my skin as Sam forms a pretty large hickey. Sam detaches his mouth and blows cool air on my skin, causing me to whimper from the sensation. Dean follows in suit, but on my right side. By the end of it, my panties are a little wetter and my neck has a large hickey on either side of it. The whimpering I was doing on Dean’s lap made him chuckle.

“Rachel. Sweetheart. You’re ours. That will never change. We love you and we will protect you always. Fuck fate. Fuck what the world thinks we should do. You know we’ve never been good at following rules anyway. We’re both already in love with you and you’re in love with us too. So just let it happen and whatever happens, as a result, happens.” Sam says, moving his arms around my waist and pulling me into him.

I smile and nuzzle my face into Sam’s, he hasn’t shaven since yesterday, so the stubble scratches my face and I scrunch up my nose. Dean chuckles and kisses my scrunched nose.

“Alright, whatever happens, happens,” I mutter, enjoying the feeling of being held by both my boys.

“That’s right,” Dean smiles and kisses me softly, grunting when I let out a happy sigh.

I find myself growing tired, the nightmares and my self-inflicted mental torture finally catching up with me. Tears slip from my eyes out of pure exhaustion and my body falls limp. It occurs to me that I’ve been going too hard for too long. Of course, Dean notices and his protective instincts rise.

“Alright princess, I think it’s time for you to get some sleep. Sammy and I will be right at the table, you get some shut eye.” Dean presses a kiss to my temple and smooths my hair away from my face.

Sammy gets up to leave and more tears come to my eyes. Neither of my brother’s notice. Dean moves to stand, and I panic. Due to my insecurity it’s been weeks since I’ve cuddled with my brothers. The combined heat they bring is enough to make the world’s most energetic morning person stay in bed.

“No! Stay!” I whine petulantly, flaying my hands out to grab the hems of their shirts.

Sam and Dean look at me, surprised. I can tell my petulance is bringing up old dominant feelings in the boys. Feelings that probably made them want to coddle me and punish me for telling them no at the same time. I roll out of Dean’s lap and onto the bed, giggling tiredly. Sam smiles at me from the end of the bed, teeth and all.

“You want us to stay with you sweet girl?” Sam asks, gently placing the heated palms of his hands on my ankles.

I smile and nod, looping my legs around Sam’s torso and pulling him forward on top of me. His warm palms pressed into the cheap motel bedding on either side of my head and his mouth immediately connects with mine. Sam groans and moves his mouth slowly, softly against mine. Our tongues meld together perfectly. I bring my hands up into Sam’s hair and tug lightly, eliciting a growl from his throat. He pulls away hard and presses his forehead against mine, panting softly.

“I always forget the power your mouth has over me sweet girl” Sam husks.

I smile and lift to connect our mouths once more, but my lips meet the rough palm of Dean’s hand.

“As much as Sam and I would love to worship your body right now, we know you must be exhausted sweetheart. Also, we haven’t slept together since August, your tiny body isn’t ready for us to go in like we used too. We gotta get you ready first.” Dean winks, making me shiver.

Sam sends Dean a look of annoyance tinged with understanding and rolls off me, settling at my side. I immediately become the little spoon to Sam’s very large one and face Dean.

“Since you’re barring my sexual adventures the least you can do is lay with us,” I tease, hitting him with doe eyes.

I know Sam is above me sending Dean his famous puppy-dog eyes. Dean doesn’t stand a chance.

“Alright, alright, I’m comin’ you two. Kill the sad eyes.” Dean smiles and rolls over to us.

He wraps an arm around my lower back, pressing my stomach against his and his lips against mine. He tastes like whiskey, coffee, and toothpaste. I smile and wrap one of my hands in his hair, tugging lightly. Dean grunts and I feel him physically restrain himself from copying the motion on me.

“You’re a little grabby today huh?” Sam notes.

I giggle sheepishly, hiding my red face in Dean’s chest. The boys’ laugh resounds throughout the room. The need to sleep becomes more apparent as the warmth radiating from my boys grows stronger. Sam’s knee comes up between my legs and I feel safe, enclosed in the warmth of my boys. Soon darkness takes over and I’m asleep.


	2. Simple Wishes Granted

**Sam**

There’s hair in my mouth, an ass pressed against my crotch, and feet tangled with my own. A small hand is wrapped around mine and a small warm frame is pressed against mine. Dean groans from across the small person between us, and runs his hand lazily down her tanned leg. I stretch my free arm and let out an unexpected, loud groan, causing Dean to jump. His green eyes meet my hazel ones and we smile at the small, clingy human, holding on to some part of each of us. Lazy morning sunlight streams through the broken, dusty, motel blinds and dances on the gold in her hair. Her lips are parted slightly, her breathing even and slow.

Dean is staring at her just like I am, in awe of the beautiful little creature we’ve grown up with and grown to fall in love with. I dance my fingers along her arm and press a slow, soft kiss on her shoulder, remembering she loved to be woken up with kisses and affection. Dean places a kiss on her lips before his eyes slowly fall closed again. She snuggles into his figure and his arms come up to keep her close, briefly reminding me of when Dean used to call her koala-bear. I smile and run my hands down her thigh before throwing my legs over the side of the bed and standing. Somewhere in the night my shirt ended up on Rachel and my jeans were thrown onto the couch. I assume the jeans were my doing and the shirt was all Rachel. I smile and pull the covers over her, so she can snuggle with my brother.

I walk to the bathroom, drop my boxers and get the shower started. It’s not until I leave the bathroom, after my shower, that I hear the cacophony of snores coming from the bed. Dean and Rachel, one snuggled up inside the other, mouths wide open, snoring away. I pick up my phone from its charger and snap a picture, then a video. Rachel is stirring at this point. Her body is slowly extending out and she’s stretching herself awake. I throw on some boxers and sweatpants before getting the coffee pot started. One thing our baby sister isn’t is a morning person.

 She murmurs and whimpers from the bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her tiny fists. Back when us and Rachel had a constant dynamic going, Rachel was compliant in the morning. We operated in a watered down ddlg dynamic, that wasn’t always sexual. Living on the road was hard, as expressed in our relationship status, sometimes Rachel needed to regress, sometimes Dean and I needed to have someone to nurture. It was hard to explain so we didn’t usually try. The bottom line is that Rachel is ours and we're hers.

“De...?” Rachel whimpers from beside him, pushing his arm slightly.

He grumbles and tightens his grip, causing her anxiety to lower. Something about being close to us just calms her down. It’s another odd thing we can’t explain.

“Coffee?” I ask gruffly, gesturing to the nearly full pot.

She whips her head around so fast I’m pretty sure she got whiplash. Her eyes flash with surprise and then happiness at the fresh, hot coffee in the pot. She squeals and squirms excitedly, for what I perceived as her love for coffee, and jumps out of bed, away from Dean. She runs to me and launches herself onto me. I catch her with ease, stumbling back at the added weight.

“Can I help you little one?” I ask, situating her in my arms.

She mumbles my name to herself with childlike excitement as her explorative hands roam my bare chest and neck, gradually moving to my face. This early in the morning she’s so deep in her headspace it’s like she’s our 3-year-old baby sister again. Now she’s 18 and still as small as she was on her first day of middle school. 5 foot 3 inches to be exact.

“Hold” is the only answer she gives.

I press a kiss to her lips softly and rub a soothing hand down her back.

“I think that can be arranged,” I say warmly.

She smiles largely and nestles her head under my chin, just enjoying being held. I walk over to the coffee maker and pour her a cup. I set it on the dingy motel table and sit her in front of it. She smiles appreciatively and picks up the cup to gingerly sip her coffee. I turn my attention to my own cup of coffee and set it on the table in front of her, she looks up at me and sets her coffee down next to mine, so she doesn’t spill it. I lift her up, take her spot, and sit her so she's straddling my lap facing the laptop in front of her. I pick up my coffee and take a sip.

“Hey, so how’d you get my shirt on your body little one?” I ask, running my fingertips under said shirt right above her panty line and appreciating how the maroon looks on her tanned skin.

She bites her lip and her eyes flutter at my touch.

“Answer me, sweet girl,” I sweep my fingers just below the waistband of her silk panties.

“I pulled it off when you were really asleep cause I was cold, and you were sweating.” She looks up at me innocently.

“Is that the truth angel?” I ask, giving her a look.

“Yes sir” she smiles cutely.

“Mm, alright,” I say and sneak my fingers deeper down until their separating her folds and dancing along her clit.

She’s completely soaked already. Her soft sighs and tiny moans fill the air as I lazily play with her pussy and look through the morning paper. Eventually, I use a finger to fill her and her moans grow louder, stirring Dean slightly.

“Sam… p-please may I cum?” She asks, her thighs shaking, waiting for release.

“Hold it a little longer baby, I wanna stretch you out,” I say calmly, adding another finger to pump in and out of her.

She moans louder, and her right-hand grips my thigh.

“B-Brother please” she moans, resting her head on my shoulder.

Her thighs shaking harder.

“Cum,” I say quietly.

She cums so hard that her body is shaking from her toes to her fingertips. I continue to rub her through her orgasm and let her come down slowly. Once she’s calm, I pull my fingers out and suck her taste from them, tossing her a wink. I pull my fingers from my mouth after any trace of her is gone. She blushes at my actions. Dean stirs again, making it more evident that he’s awake. I see the excitement building in Rachel’s eyes, so I pull her off my lap to go wake up our brother. I misjudge her actions apparently because instead of waking him up gently, she jumps on him…hard.

“UP!” She cries as her body collides with his.

He groans in surprise and flips her so she’s below him. Despite being pinned by a very confused and tired Dean, Rachel is still all smiles.

“De,” She says, mischievously.

Dean wakes up a little more and it becomes clear to him who woke him up. His confused pout turns into a small smile as he collapses on Rachel, peppering kisses all over her face and neck. The giggles pouring out from under him bring a smile to my face. I clear my throat causing Dean to look over at me.

“Jealous?” He teases.

“Unlike you, sleepy head, I got to help her wake up. So no, I can’t say I am,” I respond, quirking a playful eyebrow at my brother who still has our sister trapped in a cage of muscle and sheets. Dean and Rachel just stare at each other for a minute, communicating weeks of unsaid feelings and worries. Rachel sobers slightly, her compliant state slowly diminishing as she travels to a more wakeful state.

 “Sammy made coffee,” she says softly.

Dean, like Rachel, is physically unable to function without at least a half a pot of coffee in his system. I grab whatever I can get before Rachel and Dean consume the rest.

He huffs, gets out of bed, only wearing boxers, and scoops our baby sister to parade her into the kitchen. He runs his fingers through Rachel’s soft hair and presses a soft kiss on her temple after seating her on my lap again. The same hand caresses my shoulder and soft lips are on the top of my head. I throw my brother a smile and go back to researching with our little spider monkey. He makes a cup of coffee and sets it in front of our sister, who much to my surprise has already downed her first cup. Dean sits down across from us, remaining coffee in the coffee pot in hand, flipping through a gun magazine.

Rachel is halfway through her second coffee and she’s starting to get restless. Her left-hand taps against the linoleum table because she must move something to let out the extra energy. I’m done with my coffee by now and we’re not any closer to an answer than we were last night. Dean isn’t getting any case-based research done by flipping through a gun magazine. So, I figure it would be best to get him to take care of Rachel while I review some evidence. I rub Rachel’s thigh to get her attention. She looks up at me expectantly.

“Why don’t you and De go shower so I can finish up some of this research. Okay?” I whisper in Rachel’s ear.

“Why are we whispering?” She responds in a loud, not-so-much-of-a-whisper, whisper.

Dean laughs and chokes on his coffee.

“Just go hop in the shower, bug.” I chuckle, pinching the inside of her thigh.

She squeaks and scurries off my lap. Running into the bathroom. Dean, catching on, stands and downs the rest of his coffee before following her.

 

**Rachel**

I run into the bathroom, quickly stripping off my wet panties and Sammy’s shirt. I get the warm water going when Dean walks in, bare of clothing and gently pulls me away from the faucet. He pushes my hips against the bathroom counter while the water warms, and captures my lips in his. I moan in appreciation and trail my fingers down his chest lightly. Dean unlatches his mouth from mine and presses a soft kiss to my forehead, I can tell he’s doing everything he can not to throw me on the counter and fuck me. He squeezes my ass gently and turns to step into the shower, looking at me expectantly. I follow him in quickly and sigh appreciatively when the warm water hits my back. Dean starts to wash his hair, the musky scent of his skin and the dark sent of his shampoo combine and dance in the air. I enjoy the scent, breathe it in and embrace it. I reach up and massage Dean’s scalp, working in the shampoo and enjoying the small grunts and groans that fall from his lips. Once I’m sure it thoroughly rubbed in, I tilt his head back under the stream of warm water. I repeat the relaxing process with his conditioner.

I know my physical absence has been hard for him. He’s one of those guys that needs reassurance in relationships. When I was pulling away he probably thought it was because he was doing something wrong. It was fear and guilt controlling my emotions, causing me to create the very situation I was afraid fate would put us in. An idea falls over me as Dean begins washing my dark brown hair. I kneel in front of him, eyeing his package hungrily. It’s been so long since I’ve tasted him, and now I’m starving. Dean’s watching me, his eyes hooded with lust but clear with caution in case I decide I can’t help him. Slowly I reach up and begin to jack him off, starting with small, hard strokes.

“Shit.” Dean hisses and leans against the tile.

I close my mouth around his tip and suck gently and lazily. Earning a hard tug on my hair. Dean resumes massaging the shampoo into my hair as I slowly take in all of Dean’s 8-inch dick down my throat. Dean groans loudly. I smile and slowly begin to bob my head, hollowing my cheeks to add friction.

“Fuck baby, that’s it, take all of big brother’s cock” He moans as I speed up.

Once I reach up to lazily fondle his balls, I feel him fall apart. I know he’s about to cum, so I deep throat him one last time as he shoots thick, hot, ropes of cum down my throat. I slowly pull back up and suckle on his head, pulling every drop of cum out of his body. Dean’s broken moans and pants sound above me as he finishes massaging the shampoo out of my hair.

 I stand and smile as Dean runs conditioner through my hair, pausing his hands at my jaw and massaging gently. I lean into his touch and let him finish cleaning my hair and body. We step out of the shower together and I lean against the counter while Dean wraps a towel around his waist and then wraps a towel around me. He runs a towel over my head and takes his time drying my hair. The feeling of his hands rubbing my hair makes me moan quietly in pleasure.

“Such a good little girl” He murmurs and rubs circles on my lower back.

His praise makes my heart sing as I lift my face up to his for a kiss. I place small, wet kisses on his neck and chest enjoying the way his hands flatten out on my skin.

“I missed this,” I say softly, pressing my face into my eldest brother’s chest.

He sighs deeply and runs his hands through my wet hair, removing the knots.

“I missed you,” Dean says, his voice holding a vulnerability Sam and I are only privy too.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper and lift my face to kiss him again.

He replies with a bruising kiss that’s all teeth and tongue. It’s passionate. Hard. His tongue swallows my own so all I can taste is Dean. Dean smells like gun smoke and soap. Dean tastes like whiskey and coffee. Dean feels like home. Dean is home. Wherever my boys are, I’m home. I feel Dean slow down, his lips now moving languidly against mine as he sits me up on the counter. I spread my legs for him to stand between them. His kiss becomes soft, almost apologetic, against my bruised, used lips. Slowly he pulls away. My face follows him hopefully, catching my breath along the way.

“De,” I frown, wanting his hot mouth on mine.

“Baby girl, if we keep going, I'll fuck you. You’re not ready for that again,” Dean chases my frown with his finger pads.

They dance across my mouth. His eyes flare with lust when I suck one of his digits into my mouth. I take it all the way down to his knuckle, reveling in his expression. He groans and slowly pulls out his finger, leaving my mouth empty once again. His mouth connects with mine and all heat is gone. It’s pure appreciation now. He lifts my body off the counter, removes his mouth from mine, and sets my feet on the ground. His instructions are clear, words never even having to escape his lips. I leave the bathroom, towel-clad, and go to rummage around in the boys’ luggage.

Sam, upon seeing me, clears his throat and raises an eyebrow as if to say, “do your clothes not suffice?” I giggle and pull out a pair of long socks I bought Sam several Christmas’ ago. They have snowflakes and snowmen on them and are worn during the colder months of our never-ending hunting season. I pull them on, they go up to just above my knees. Next, I go to dean’s bag and pull out his most worn flannel, the one that smells most like him. It’s a bit too big for me, but it covers everything to an extent, so I can’t complain. When I’m not expected to be dressed up for a hunt, I’m usually wearing one of my brother’s shirts and a pair of my leggings or shorts. When I’m sleeping its just one of their shirts and whatever panties I choose.

I remember the first time I started wearing Dean and Sam’s clothes. Ironically enough it was a trend that was initiated by my father when I was young

**_ Flashback- 18 years ago  _ **

                _“C’mon little bug, let’s get you ready for bed,” Dad said, scooping me up from the motel couch where I was busily watching Looney Toons._

_My whine of despair caused a bubble of laughter to escape his chest, lightening the sour mood of that comes with the end of a hunt. Dad pulls me to the nearest bed, the one Dean and Sam were sharing and shrugs off his flannel. His dark blue shirt comes off next and my stained pink frilly t-shirt is exchanged for it. It was the period of hunting where we just so happened to be in one of the hottest states during the warmest part of the year. During colder months he’d wrap me up in his flannels. Dad lifted me up and gently catapulted me to the other bed. Smiling at the cacophony of giggles that erupted from my chest. Dean and Sam, engrossed in researching and gun-cleaning, looked up at my laughter too._

_“Alright bug, let's get some shut-eye yeah?” Dad asks._

_“Ok daddy,” I giggled and nestled under the covers of my Dad and I’s shared motel bed._

_Sleep stole me away while the scent of my dad’s cologne and cigarette smoke filled my nose._

**_ End  _ ** ** Flashback _– Present Day_ **

                As I grew older and Dad was around less and less, I found myself wearing Dean’s t-shirts to bed. I asked him once and he said yes once, but when I wore the same shirt the next night to bed, he didn’t protest. Every once in awhile, to be polite, I’d ask my brothers if I could borrow their flannels or shirts to sleep in. Usually it was because “I didn’t have any clean shirts”. I don’t think Dean or Sam ever cared though. They got some primal enjoyment out of me wearing _their_ clothes and smelling like _them_. Eventually I stopped packing sleeping clothes and just started stealing their shirts out of their bags. It wasn’t long before I built a collection of stolen shirts and flannels that neither Dean or Sam complained about.  I drop my towel and start getting dressed.

I pull on Dean’s flannel, button it lazily and go to my luggage for my panties. Dean has left the bathroom now and is tossing our combined dirty laundry into the plastic bag we’ve reserved for it. He takes a huge handful of my ass and squeezes it as he passes me. I grin and dig out my favorite pair of soft lace panties. They’re black, a sharp contrast to the gray and white of Dean’s flannel. Once I’ve finished getting “dressed”, I go to lay on the bed we all shared last night, Dad's journal in hand. I’m leaning on the headboard, ankles crossed, engrossed in an entry about wraiths. Dean is getting dressed in front of me, his previous outfit of boxers is replaced with some black briefs, grey sweatpants, and no shirt. I try to stop myself from licking my lips but it’s hard.

“Find anything new, Sammy?” Dean asks, gently uncrossing my ankles for what I assumed was a cuddle session.

“Well it’s either a ghoul or a revenant, but I won’t know for sure until we interview the victim's families.” He says, glancing at the motel alarm clock.

“It’s too early to leave now, I say we head out about noon, maybe go to grab some breakfast soon.” I chime, smiling at Dean who is slowly spreading my legs further and further apart.

“Great idea sugar,” Dean smiles, pulling my panties down with a single finger, and then flinging them away to Sam.

I know what my brother is doing. He’d do better to at least _try_ and feign subtly. Sam is watching in interest while our brother pushes my thighs further apart. My knees fall loosely to the side, giving him the most advantage. His mouth meets my clit and I feel myself melt. His tongue lazily sweeps across my clit, creating a slow burn in the pit of my stomach. His masterful lips suck only on my clit, making it harder and harder to focus on the journal entry in front of me. He licks one long stripe from my hole to my bud, making sure I feel every hard press and ridge of his tongue. He slowly moves his tongue into my hole, tongue fucking me slowly and lazily. Despite his lazy actions, my eldest brother looks hyper-focused on the task at hand. I feel my legs start to give and a shake starts to erupt in my thighs.

“Are you already this close?” Dean husks, looking at the shake of my thighs, the easiest indicator of my orgasmic struggles.

“I played with her earlier,” Sam pipes up, contributing to the lazy feel of the cunnilingus session currently happening.

Dean slowly dips his tongue into my hole and slowly brings it back up to my clit, pressing harder and going a little faster. He runs his fingers along the soft skin of my inner thigh, and I can feel myself coming undone.

“Big B-brother, ” I give a quiet warning.

He gives no indication of hearing me aside from speeding up. My head falls back on the headboard and I widen my legs to increase his access. The mewls and moans falling from my mouth are both unintelligible and fevered. Dean smiles against my clit and licks one long, hard stripe from my hole to my clit for the third time, making my body rock to a climax. My big brother rubs me gently throughout my orgasm and brings me down slowly. I’m panting and he’s smirking when our eyes finally meet.

“So, who wants breakfast!” he chirps, clapping his hands together once.

“Me!” I yell excitedly, scrambling to the door.

“Ah, ah, ah, where the fuck are you going?” Sam enquires from the table.

“I’m getting in the car to get breakfast, c’mon guys!” I encourage, going a step further by placing my hand on the grimy doorknob.

“If you think Sam and I are gonna let you anywhere near the general populous with our little sister’s goodies on display like that, you’re dumber than I thought baby girl,” Dean quirks one eyebrow at me.

“But why not, guys I’m starving!” I pout, stomping my foot childishly.

“You can wait here while Dean and I grab it to go then.” Sam decides, standing to grab a shirt.

“NO! I wanna go with! I’ll get dressed!” I panic and run to my suitcase.

I throw on another set of panties, black leggings, an army green tank top with Dean’s flannel over it and combat boots before dashing out the door to get in Baby. By the time the boys are dressed I’m already in the car with my hazelnut brown hair Dutch braided into pigtails. I send the boys a cheeky smile before Dean slides in his seat, grumbling about women.


End file.
